Move over Cabbage Patch Kids, Tickle Me Elmo and Playstation 3. I got up at the crack of dawn this morning and stood in line for this year's "must have" holiday gift: limited edition H1N1 vaccines! And I got 'em -- in the new, designer mist! (Well, I gained two winning lottery tickets that allow entry to the fun festivities.) The kids'll be soooo excited when they get to go to the pediatrician's office on Saturday.
Who says that Christmas can't come early?
Showing posts with label h1n1. Show all posts
Showing posts with label h1n1. Show all posts
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
H1NE1?
Son #1 was reading a library book last night on wizardry and decided to read my palm. Not that I believe in this stuff but my lifeline fades and splinters mid-palm for a good quarter of an inch, regains strength and continues until it reaches my wrist. Since I'm quickly rounding the age bend toward 45, I'm thinking I've gotta be entering the fractured, mid-palm stage of life right now.
And given that I've been sick with what I'm calling "the plague" for over five weeks and, once again, have tissues stuck up my nose today at work (i.e., stunningly gorgeous, as always), I'm thinking this is the beginning of the end. Or at least the beginning of the prolonged "life support season" of my apparently fragile-but-lengthy existence.
Thankfully with all of the (justified?) pandemic paranoia going around these days, my kids have really long, thick, lifelines. I just pray to God every night that they remain safe, healthy, happy and filled with wisdom to make the right choices in life -- especially if I'm no longer around as God continues thinning the herd.
On a related age note, we watched the Wanda Sykes HBO special over the weekend. She, too, is 45 years old and makes a few great jokes about her aging body (and her bulging midsection's demands for bread and alcohol). Sounds familiar. She even delivered the following zinger:
And given that I've been sick with what I'm calling "the plague" for over five weeks and, once again, have tissues stuck up my nose today at work (i.e., stunningly gorgeous, as always), I'm thinking this is the beginning of the end. Or at least the beginning of the prolonged "life support season" of my apparently fragile-but-lengthy existence.
Thankfully with all of the (justified?) pandemic paranoia going around these days, my kids have really long, thick, lifelines. I just pray to God every night that they remain safe, healthy, happy and filled with wisdom to make the right choices in life -- especially if I'm no longer around as God continues thinning the herd.
On a related age note, we watched the Wanda Sykes HBO special over the weekend. She, too, is 45 years old and makes a few great jokes about her aging body (and her bulging midsection's demands for bread and alcohol). Sounds familiar. She even delivered the following zinger:
“I used to pack an extra pair of panties in case I got lucky. Now I pack an extra pair in case I sneeze.”Afterward, she dropped to the floor pretending that she had a Kegel-induced charlie horse. If only it wasn't so funny . . .
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